


divine

by side_stickie_note (lost_stickie_note)



Series: tinysparks [12]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Emperor!Chanyeol, Lemon, M/M, Or rather the table in front of his throne semantics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex vs Public Sex idk, Smut, This is literally just Chanyeol fucking Jongin over the throne, concubine!Jongin, imperialconsort!Baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/side_stickie_note
Summary: The throne is just a seat, and Jongin, merely a whore.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol
Series: tinysparks [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734781
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98
Collections: Challenge #6 — Rise of Kingdoms





	divine

**Author's Note:**

> Needed some throne fucking. And a dash of barely restrained sexual tension. Plus a side of spite. Realized that the setting might be a bit confusing; more like an Asian throne room, with the low thrones and low tabletops in front, think Yixing's 'Lit' MV, haha. A few things in end notes, I guess.

Chanyeol drags his fingers over the silk, the pattern a delicately wrought shades of blues and greens with a hint of white, forming picturesque clashing waves, the feeling of ocean spray almost tangible when viewed from a distance, but there’s nothing like that up close—not this close—the material bunching up around Chanyeol’s hand as he sweeps it upwards, the heel of his palm running over the smooth skin of Jongin’s thigh, up until the robe is gathered high around his hips, exposing the curve of his bottom, knees against the floor in a kneel with his legs tucked neatly underneath him.

The trembling nearly undoes him, Jongin leaning forward off his haunches, thighs shaking, billowing sleeves sliding down his arms as Jongin gracefully tilts the pot, slender fingers keeping the lid in place as he pours. “More tea.”

“Thank you, Jongin.”

Jongin settles back on his heels, hands folded demurely over the tops of his thighs, the only sign at all of Chanyeol’s advances being a slight pink brushing his cheekbones, and Chanyeol feels the arousal pooling in his groin, letting out a low hiss at the strip of visible skin, the slit in Jongin’s robes running high enough that Chanyeol can see the marks caressing Jongin’s hip left behind from yesterday, the rest of the silk still collected enough in Jongin’s lap to hide anything more scandalous.

But there is work to be done.

Chanyeol pays Jongin no mind save for a few sidelong looks as he continues writing, sitting at the table low in front of his throne, taking his brush to each royal decree, his seal heavy at the bottom in red, the room weighted in silence, and when he finally deigns to spare Jongin a proper glance, he lets his gaze linger on the other’s throat, the slow bobbing as Jongin swallows thickly at the feel of his stare, fists now balled up in his lap, the only indication of his distress.

Jongin doesn’t look at him as he abandons his brush, perching it precariously over his shallow well of ink, before lazily sliding one hand beneath Jongin’s robe, fingers stroking the inside of his thigh, further and further until his hand is palming Jongin, hard, pre-cum beading from the tip, untouched and waiting, and Chanyeol simply watches as he strokes Jongin, the fluttering of eyelashes, the belabored breathing that dissolves into short, staccato pants, the sharpness of Jongin’s collarbones as he shakes with the effort of staying still.

But Jongin finally cries out as Chanyeol tugs none-too-gently, carelessly letting the silk slide off of Jongin’s shoulders to settle at his waist, exposing his back, shoulder blades pulled together, emphasizing the gentle curve down to the dip in his lower back, and chest, dusky nipples quickly perking up as Jongin shivers under the nippiness of the room air.

It makes Jongin whimper, the drag of his tongue over Jongin’s chest, and then keen, as he takes Jongin’s nipple between his teeth, and Chanyeol can feel Jongin quivering against his lips as he continues his ministrations, and against his hand, Jongin’s cock twitching in his palm.

“Divine.”

Chanyeol sucks bruises into Jongin’s skin, a tapestry of purples and reds that are sure to last, ignoring the whines of protest. The order is throaty, Chanyeol moving backwards to make room, his voice dry and cracked with need, and Chanyeol lets the pleasure wash over him as the flush in Jongin’s cheeks deepens, the embarrassment of knowing exactly what Chanyeol desires. “Come here, Jongin.”

Jongin rearranges himself meticulously, avoiding the assortment on his table, moving the ink well, his brushes, his seal, draping his upper body over the surface, hand tugging at the knotted silk bow near his waist, the loose loop the only thing keeping Jongin from being stripped bare. “No, leave it.”

Chanyeol pauses to admire the sight of Jongin from the seat of his throne, legs spread apart, bent over the low table at which Chanyeol works.

Pink, pretty, budding.

The soft smell of jasmine fills the room as Chanyeol dips his fingers in the aromatic oil before encircling Jongin’s quivering hole, back arching as Chanyeol presses in, sucking in Chanyeol’s fingers—one, two, then three—hungrily. And Chanyeol doesn’t bother cursing the mess, slicking Jongin quickly to ease the stretch of his fingers, Jongin’s high-pitched whimpers tempering out into mewls, the oil coating his hole with a nice sheen, dripping down the back of his legs.

Jongin barely makes a sound as Chanyeol thrusts in, driving his hips forward as his hands around Jongin’s waist pull his body back, the sound of skin against skin embarrassingly loud, and Chanyeol starts off with a punishing pace, groaning as Jongin clenches around him greedily, the sound of Jongin’s begs for release growing louder. “P-please.”

And Jongin comes nearly untouched, coming apart as soon as Chanyeol snakes his hand around to grab at Jongin’s length, finishing over the smooth varnished wood, going limp with exhaustion as Chanyeol continues, delighting at Jongin tightening around his cock even after Jongin has lost the energy to hold himself up.

Chanyeol groans as he fills Jongin’s tight heat, pumping in a few last times, and it is only when Jongin lets out a small gasp that he opens his eyes to see Baekhyun staring at them impassively, Jongin hurriedly attempting to make himself look decent under the roaming eyes of Baekhyun drinking in the sight of Jongin, half-naked, strewn across his table, and Jongin’s voice is nearly a whisper, dipping into a clumsy bow for the other. “Imperial Consort.”

“I see you’ve been busying yourself with the whore.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flash, mouth set in a tight line, as Chanyeol languidly replies, Jongin yelping as he sinks his fingers in, wetting them, the white overflowing and still dribbling from Jongin’s hole, bringing them to his mouth to taste. “Jealous of the concubine?”

“Hardly.”

And Chanyeol watches with glee as Baekhyun stalks out of the room, shoulders shaking with thinly veiled fury.

**Author's Note:**

> Chanyeol thinks Baekhyun fucks better when he's angry.
> 
> This started out potentially as an OT3 where Baekhyun was enamored with Jongin, with Chanyeol giving in to Baekhyun's whims with the resolution of Jongin becoming their first concubine, Chanyeol watching Baekhyun and Jongin fuck, dissolving into threesome, etc etc, but then I got too lazy. Needless to say, this came out entirely different.
> 
> Also, headcanon wise, the three of them end up OT3 in this universe too.
> 
> Small note: Changed Empress Consort to Imperial Consort to make it gender neutral.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@sidestickienote](https://twitter.com/sidestickienote)  
> CuriousCat: [@sidestickienote](https://curiouscat.qa/sidestickienote)  
> 


End file.
